


The Hardships of an Archangel

by InterruptingMoose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And did not turn out how I expected, Angst and Tragedy, Crying Gabriel, Crying Lucifer, Crying Michael, He misses his Luci, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Men Crying, Michael Needs a Hug, Michael-centric, My baby Michael, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sort of AU, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, bad summary, it's sad, what have I done?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3226424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterruptingMoose/pseuds/InterruptingMoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Michael casts Lucifer down, he begins to think he has no purpose to go on.</p><p>He meets with Death four times after this assumption.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hardships of an Archangel

As Heaven rebuilt itself after Lucifer's rebellion, Michael spent most days locked in his room, hiding himself from his siblings. He was consumed with love, sadness, pain but most of all, he was angry. 

Sad that his brother betrayed him. 

He felt the pain of being alone, now that his brother was gone.

He felt his heart ache for losing his only love.

But most of all, he was angry at himself. 

He had condemned his brother, his best friend, his lover to pain and silence. And for what? Because God had willed it? 

When the archangel finally decided that he needed answers, he went to his Father.

"Why?" Michael asked, never before had he questioned the will of God. "Why did you make them?" 

God, sensing the pain of His oldest son, comforted his angel. "I thought he would have loved them." He replied calmly, watching tears trickle down his son's face. "I was wrong."

"Why would he have loved them?" Michael asked, his anger flaring. "How could he have loved them?"

God placed a hand on his son's shoulder and replied. "Some believe that I created man in the image of myself, my son, but I did not. I created them in the image of the thing that Lucifer loved most, the person that Lucifer loved more than anything or anyone, the one that he would sacrifice himself for."

Michael listened carefully, his confusion growing more and more. Lucifer loved their Father more than anything, he would give up his own life for their Father.

But these humans were not perfect, like their Father, they questioned his intentions, they went against him, they disobeyed him.

Michael felt more confused than ever. "Father, I don't understand. You were the one Lucifer loved above all others, yet you did not create them in the image of yourself?" He asked.

"Michael, I thought Lucifer would love them because I created them in the image of you." God replied. "He loved you much more than he loved me, more than he loved anyone and anything. Despite the flaws you may have or how blemished you may be, you were perfect in Lucifer's eyes."

Michael nodded in understanding and retreated back to his room, leaving God to believe that he had comforted and assured him.

But his Father had thought wrong.

Michael stopped at his bedroom door, his hand resting on the handle of the door. He decided against going into his room and instead, made his way to the garden.

It seemed empty.

The beauty of it was tarnished without Lucifer, the lush green vines hung from the trees, and flowers of every colour sprouted from the ground, surrounded by the soft grass that danced in the light breeze.

Michael slowly walked towards the edge and stood, watching down on humanity. They were created in the image of him. Michael.

The archangel.

The imperfect angel.

The most flawed being in all of Creation.

What was his purpose? To kill his brother? To restore Heaven? To pretend to be perfect? To pretend to be something he was not? Someone he was not?

Because in the end, he was worthless. Useless. Pathetic. He would never compare to Lucifer or Gabriel or Raphael. He would never be as courageous as Castiel would be, or as passionate as Balthazar would be or as determined as Anna would be.

He would be nothing. He was nothing, not anymore. Not without Lucifer. Not without his angel.

So he took his blade, the rays of the sun refracted into his bright green eyes, and he held it to his arm, tearing his skin apart as his tears stained his cheeks and his blood stained his arms.

He continued to destroy himself, only going deeper. To feel pain. To apologise for what he had done to Lucifer. To make death appear before him and take him as the coward he was, where he should look down on Michael as the pitiable creature he was.

So Michael cut deeper, until the grass was flowing with blood as red as rubies and Michael's arms were unrecognisable, until they were torn apart. 

And Death appeared before him and spoke softly.

"Michael, what have you done to yourself?" Death asked and Michael sank to his knees and looked up at him through his tears.

"I don't want to be here anymore, I don't want to be here without him." Michael whispered.

"I cannot take you, Michael." Death replied calmly and Michael looked up again and stared into the depths of the eyes of Death. He saw the relief and the happiness of those who had passed, but he also saw the anguish and the anger of the tormented souls. 

Michael stared for a while and offered no argument, a silent, yet reluctant, acceptance of his fate. 

Death knelt down before him. "You should not bow before me, Michael, you should not bow before anyone, for even the wisest of men will never compare to you." He said and Michael shook his head.

"I'm nothing compared to the likes of them." Michael whispered. "I deserve to die."

"No." Death argued. "Michael, we will meet four times, on four different occasions and on each occasion, someone will die." And in an instant, Death was gone and Michael sat alone once more and cried freely, sobbing for his brother.

And somewhere, deep in the depths of Hell, below the tortured souls and the demons, Lucifer sat in his cage and he could have sworn that he had heard the cry of an angel.

……………

As the years past, Michael had not been confronted by Death and his self-loathing grew. 

Beneath the stoic mask he wore, he was broken. Broken beyond repair, yet he played his part. He kept up the act of 'Daddy's Little Soldier', even when God left.

By day, he would be the prince of Heaven, the perfect angel but by night, he would indulge himself in pain as the days drew closer and closer to the final battle. The battle where he would see Lucifer, and he was dreading every second that lead to it.

Michael would constantly slice open his right arm, his legs, his body and even his wings, if anyone asked, he had been harmed in battle. However, despite the many places he had hurt himself over the years, he had never cut his left arm, not since the first time he had brought the blade to his skin. 

It held his favourite scar, the thin faded pink lines of once deep cuts were engraved into his skin forever. He was not proud of what he had been doing to himself, but he was also not ashamed of his scars.

As the battle drew closer, Lucifer was freed from his prison and that night, Death confronted Michael. Michael made his way to the prophet, Chuck's home where Castiel had just been killed and Death stood, holding Castiel's soul that was embraced by his light blue grace.

And in that moment, anger flared in the archangel. As Death made ready to leave, Michael pulled Castiel from his arms and flew as fast as he could, ignoring the angered screams of Death.

Michael flew through the skies and landed near a river. He quickly pulled out two rings and shoved one on his own finger and the other on Castiel's. They were a gift his Father had given him. 

The Rings of Life.

Although they were often mistaken in their use, many believed they blue mist engraved in them held the elixir of life, that any wearer of the rings would be granted immortality. They would not.

Because no man could ever be immortal, no man is smart enough to cheat Death.

Instead the rings hid the wearer from Death; they kept the wearer invisible from his wandering search until their time was up, when they should remove the ring and pass it on to someone else.

Michael laid Castiel down on the ground and knelt down, using his grace to heal him and for a very short second, Castiel's grace glowed gold, like Michael's. Once Michael was done healing his brother, he went to work at rebuilding Castiel's former vessel, Jimmy Novak. 

Michael was determined to rebuild Castiel's to how it was and after several hours, Castiel's soul and grace re-entered the body, but he remained asleep for a few hours, leaving Michael time to ponder on recent events.

He had stolen a soul from Death.

Why?

He had become so consumed with anger, Castiel didn't deserve to die, he was help the Winchesters, his friends and Michael remembered back to his thoughts the day he had first confronted Death, and they were true.

He would never be as courageous as Castiel.

His little brother, the most courageous person he knew. 

Michael ran his fingers through Castiel's dark hair and slipped the rings from both their fingers, Castiel was safe now. Free from Death's grip.

As Castiel began to stir, Michael placed a kiss to his forehead, wishing him luck in his journey ahead.

With that he flew off and Castiel awoke, looking around confused before flying off to help Dean.

……………

The second time Michael had met with Death, Death was not happy with him.

He was angry that Michael had stolen Castiel from him but Michael met his glare with an equally terrifying one.

And when Death tried to take Ellen and Jo Harvelle, Michael wrapped them in his grace and even though he knew Death could kill him, Michael hoped that he would but Death did not, and when he commanded that Michael relinquish his hold on the Harvelles, Michael held them tighter. 

They did not deserve this, they were sacrificing themselves to save millions of more people, they showed an act of kindness and loyalty and Michael refused to let go, protecting them, the creatures that he had grown to hate, with everything that he had.

Death had given up, leaving in an angry storm and Michael finally let go of the women, who stared at him in shock. He healed their souls, using his grace and just like Castiel, they seemed to shine gold for a very short second. Michael ignored this as he restored their bodies, just as he had done with Castiel and wiped their memories, sending them in the direction of the Winchesters.

Michael flew off into the night sky, but he felt… 

Weaker?

Michael ignored the odd feeling and flew to the top of the Golden Gate Bridge. He sat down on top, the cold breeze scraping through his vessel's hair.

His vessel.

It resembled that of a young John Winchester.

He had taken a liking to the Winchester, and his devotion and determination, he had great traits of a soldier.

Michael sat on top of the bridge for a long time, he watched the sun rise in the morning sky and leave when darkness had consumed the night.

Michael held the blade to his skin, watching the droplets of blood trail down his skin and his scars were more vibrant than ever. 

He reached for his neck an pulled out a locket from under his shirt. It was a simple locket, silver and encrusted with midnight blue writing that read 'Lucifer' in Enochian. 

It had been a gift from Lucifer, something he would always cherish.

Michael opened the locket and read the message inside:

'I'll love you forever.'

And reading the message again, Michael felt the tears slide down his cheeks and felt more worthless than ever.

"I'm so sorry, Lucifer." Michael cried quietly as he clutched the locket to his chest and blood trailed from the cuts on his arms and splashed on the ground, the echoing around the emptiness, a reminder to Michael how lonely he truly was.

Michael's quiet cries echoed around him and he sobbed again:

"I'm so sorry, Lucifer."

……………

The third time Michael confronted Death, Michael felt the death before he had heard Death's call. He rushed to the scene and stopped in his tracks.

Gabriel lay on the ground, his wings turned to ash behind him.

"No, no, no…" Michael choked through his tears as he slid to the ground and crawled towards his brother.

He pulled Gabriel closer, cradling his body in his arms, allowing tears to slide freely down his face. 

"Gabriel." Michael whispered, his vision blurred with hot tears as he ran his hands through Gabriel's hair. "What have I done?"

Michael looked up as Death appeared before him and once again, Michael's anger flared, raging through him like fire and ice.

"You are not taking him." Michael said through gritted teeth, holding Gabriel closer to him, embracing him in his golden grace, slowly bringing Gabriel back.

"Michael, you have stolen three souls from me!" Death snapped. "You will not take this one from me!"

"If you take him, you'll have to take me, too." Michael said and Death backed down. Michael did not know why Death refused to take him, as he so desperately wanted to die.

"Michael." Death tried to reason but Michael kept a firm grip on his brother's body, refusing to let go.

Death reached forward to try and take Gabriel but Michael moved forward to block Gabriel from his grip.

Death disappeared angrier than ever, and Michael used his grace to heal Gabriel. The golden grace blasted around the room, shining brighter than the sun and burning hotter than fire.

Gabriel's golden eyes flew open and he sat up. Michael got up and slowly backed away from his brother, hanging his head in shame.

After all, he was the reason Gabriel left in the first place.

"Michael…" Gabriel began but Michael shook his head.

"I have to go." Michael said and flew away, ignoring Gabriel's pleas for him to come back.

Michael flew through the sky and one thought races through his mind:

Death was missing his ring.

……………

Michael felt a small smile creep onto his features as Sam and Dean taught Adam how to draw Devil's Traps and banishing sigils.

The Milligan boy had been brought back to life to be a vessel for Michael, but Michael had no intention of using him as his vessel or Dean, for that matter.

Michael summoned Castiel and the angel looked confused and angry, glaring at the archangel. Michael assessed him and then nodded. 

"What do you want-" Castiel began but before he could finish, Michael cast an ancient angelic spell and Castiel was now under his control, he had seen Naomi use it often.

"I'm sorry." Michael began. "But I really need you to do me a favour."

"What is it?" Castiel asked monotonously.

"I need you to get me Death's Ring."

……………

Sam Winchester had said yes.

Sam Winchester had agreed to become the vessel of Lucifer and Heaven was panicking, Michael had been gone for months on end, no one had seen him.

And when the day of the Battle arrived, Michael still had not turned up.

Lucifer patiently waited in the cemetery, and the demons stood on one half and the angels on the other. Dean, Adam, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Gabriel and Castiel had turned up.

Dean was glaring daggers at Lucifer. Lucifer was looking between Adam and Dean, weren't they meant to be Michael's vessels? Castiel couldn't even recall the past few days.

The angels and demons glared at each other. They were ready to fight.

But Michael had no intention of fighting.

All heads snapped to the gate that creaked open, breaking the tense silence and Michael walked slowly up the path.

The angels sent a thankful prayer to their Father and Lucifer frowned. Michael was going to fight him without his vessel?

It was only as Michael got closer did Lucifer start to see the pink faded scars on his brother's arm, scars much too thin to be a battle wounds.

Michael stopped a few feet from Lucifer. "What did you do to yourself?" Lucifer whispered, refusing to meet his brother's eye, trying to look somewhere at Michael that didn't have a scar but it was impossible. They were everywhere.

A series of whispers broke out but Michael refused to look down in shame, instead he pulled out his blade and the muttering stopped.

Michael slowly walked towards Lucifer. Lucifer took out his blade, he didn't want this but if Michael was going to fight him, then so be it. Michael didn't love him anymore, he didn't love anyone.

Michael stopped until they were mere centimetres apart and everyone stood in shock as Michael pulled his brother into a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Lucifer." Michael whispered, tears staining his cheeks and Lucifer's neck.

Michael took Lucifer's hand and slid a ring onto his finger. The angels and demons tried to watch the exchange but they couldn't make out what Michael or Lucifer were saying and doing.

"I love you, Lucifer." Michael whispered and he kissed his brother, momentarily forgetting the years of pain and turmoil he had put himself through, forgetting, and not caring, about the angels and demons surrounding them, forgetting everything he had ever considered important as he clung to his brother.

Michael slowly raised his blade, he pulled back from his brother. "It will be better this way." Michael whispered and Lucifer caught sight of the glint of the blade, but he was too late. He shut his eyes and waited for the blade to pierce through his skin but it never did. 

Lucifer opened his eyes as gasps echoed around the graveyard, he looked down to see blood flowing out of Michael's stomach, where his brother had stabbed himself.

Michael slumped against him and Lucifer carefully slid to his knees, cradling his brother in his arms.

And that's when he noticed the scar on Michael's left arm, Michael's favourite scar, in the thin faded pink engraving, it read:

Lucifer

"Michael. Michael!" Lucifer cried, caressing his brother's cheeks.

"Lucifer…" Michael whispered and he pulled Lucifer closer. "I'll love you forever." He said, clutching his locket.

But a small glimmer of hope appeared as Lucifer remember that when angels die, they glow with grace and Michael wasn't. Maybe he could be saved. 

But Lucifer looked up to see Castiel, Gabriel, Ellen and Jo emitting a golden glow of Michael's grace and the demons had their eyes covered as well as Bobby, Dean and Adam.

He had saved them by giving them his grace.

"No, no, no…" Lucifer said as Michael's eyes closed.

"I… I fell, Lu-Lucifer." Michael whispered, coughing up blood.. "I'll finally - finally be at peace."

"Michael! Let me help you!" Lucifer screamed, tears streaming down his cheek. "I need you, I love you, Michael! Please don't go, please don't leave me!" 

Lucifer looked down at the ring Michael had put into his finger and time seem to freeze, everything stopped moving, sounds disappeared.

He was wearing Death's Ring.

Lucifer tore the object from his finger and threw it across the cemetery. "Michael, please." He begged, kissing his brother over and over again in vain hopes to bring him back.

He kept trying to use his grace but Michael was somehow blocking him. 

"No. No. No… I was the one destined to die! Come back!" Lucifer yelled, his true voice tearing through Heaven and Hell as Michael's eyes closed for the final time.

Lucifer held Michael's limp body closer as rain thundered down on them and thunder boomed in the sky and flashes of lightening whipped across it. Lucifer ignored his now soaking clothes as he cried over his brother's body and Gabriel fell down beside his brother and cried, remembering all the times Michael would comfort him when he would cry, how he would hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright, but Michael was gone.

Michael was dead.

Michael had believed that no one could ever cheat Death, when he himself had managed to do it.

So when Death confronted Michael for the fourth time, Death realised he had been tricked.

But he was too late.


End file.
